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It took Merlin longer than usual to deduce that Arthur was seeing someone.
Merlin was in a place where he knew Arthur well enough to know when the other man’s attentions were more on his current romantic conquest than on his work or his beer, both of which were Arthur’s two favorite things in the world.
It wasn’t like Arthur dated a lot, because that would require an excess of emotional capability and time away from his precious office, but he wasn’t a hermit, and was predictable enough that Merlin could tell if he was dating someone by how often he looked at his phone.
But none of the usual signs showed up this time, so when Arthur said that he had a girlfriend, Merlin frowned at him for a moment, tilting his head.
“Really?”
“Yes,” Arthur raised an elegant eyebrow as he regarded Merlin over his desk. Merlin had come in to get his latest paycheck for gathering information for a divorce case Arthur was working, and hadn’t planned on socializing until Arthur’s random declaration. “There’s a little too much shock in that statement for my liking, Merlin. Not everyone in the world finds me repulsive.”
“I don’t find you repulsive,” Merlin said in mock-defense, gasping for effect. “You’re quite pretty. It’s the whole personality thing that gets me.”
“Fuck off,” Arthur said lightly, with only a little bit of heat. “Anyway, she wants to go out to dinner this weekend, and I thought that maybe you could come and she could invite a friend for you. We could double.”
“We could double,” Merlin repeated mockingly, and Arthur rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Merlin was pretty much incapable of not having a wiseass response for anything that anyone said, and Arthur was a special case unto himself. “What are we, fourteen?”
“Is that a no, then?” Arthur asked, but his voice wasn’t light and mocking like Merlin’s; there was a certain level of disappointment to it that made Merlin frown. He knew that Arthur cared about him, but that didn’t mean that Arthur ever showed it. It was more of an unspoken thing, their friendship, and Arthur especially didn’t make a scene about it, no matter how small.
“I didn’t say that,” Merlin allowed, and Arthur immediately became just a little more relaxed. “Who would this friend be?”
“I don’t know,” Arthur shrugged. “I suggested the idea to Sophia the other day, and she said she could find someone.”
“You’re willing bringing me along on one of your dates?” Merlin raised a suspicious eyebrow. “Have I graduated from tolerable coworker to BFFs forever and ever and ever?”
“BFF already implies the forever, adding another one is unnecessary,” Arthur informed him in his poshest voice. “And yes, I suggested it, but not for my benefit. I figured it’s been a couple centuries since you’ve had a date.”
“I went out with a former client just last month,” Merlin informed him lightly.
“Was it a pretty blonde with a low IQ?” Arthur smiled sunnily over at him. Merlin returned the look.
“What can I say? I have a type.”
Arthur made a face at him in response. “She said she knows a couple of gay blokes, if you want to go down that road. Otherwise, I think her rabid pack of girlfriends will serve you well.”
“Do I get all of them?” Merlin laughed, before shrugging his shoulders in response to the unasked question. “Blokes, girls – all the same to me. Just make sure they wear deodorant. Anyway, you’ve yet to tell me anything about Sophia.”
“What’s to say?” Arthur shrugged, looking back down at the paperwork on his desk, pen clicking in his hand. “We met a couple months ago at one of my father’s events, started dating a week or so later. She’s considerably pretty and considerably wealthy, two of my favorite things.”
“It’s sad, isn’t it, that the personality has no effect on you,” Merlin teased lightly, though still felt a weird vibe about this girl. Arthur usually did go for the personality, no matter how much he denied it. His last long-term girlfriend, Gwen, was one of the sweetest people Merlin had ever met. But Arthur hadn’t described anything about who she was or what she did, so Merlin immediately asked.
Arthur still didn’t look up. “I’d say ‘she’s nice, you’ll like her’, but the list of people you like is dwindling fast and you might implode if I added another name to it.”
“Blatant lie,” Merlin responded. “I like my mum. I like Gwaine. I like Mithian and Lancelot. I like…um, who’s the bloke that works at the desk outside? Not your repulsive PA, the other one.”
“Elyan,” Arthur told him, clearly amused.
“Elyan,” Merlin repeated emphatically. “Solid bloke, good bloke. Um…I like you sometimes. Have I mentioned my mum yet?”
“You’re a hermit,” Arthur informed him with a wry smile. “All you do is work cases and then come here to complain to me about how you never work cases.”
“I have a system and I’m working with it,” Merlin shot back, and Arthur grinned, genuinely, in the way that always made Merlin feel a little weak at the knees. “So, when should I pencil this double date into the calendar?”
“Saturday, around six?” Arthur suggested, and Merlin nodded in assent. “And look respectable, please. We’ll probably go to someplace posh and outside of your budget. Suit jackets only.”
“Got it,” Merlin nodded in utmost seriousness, jaw set. “I’ll wear the suit jacket over my plaid t-shirt.”
“Merlin,” Arthur groaned fondly, and all Merlin could do was grin.
“Should I add overalls to the ensemble, or do you think that would be making a shitty first impression?”
Merlin was actually a bit nervous for the date – not because of the person that would be brought along for him to pretend to be interested in, but because Arthur had seemed weird and off about this whole thing. Merlin knew that whoever his date was would feel neglected, but he didn’t care enough about that to not be watching Arthur like a hawk all throughout dinner.
Merlin had a protective streak that came out in one of three ways – any client who walked through his door asking for his help, the safety of his friends, and Arthur. Though Arthur was certainly his friend, Merlin had given him a category to himself last year when he had a chest cold and Merlin made him soup, because that was literally all it took for Merlin to get way too attached.
Merlin met Arthur and his entourage outside the far too posh restaurant and, true to his word, was wearing a suit jacket over plaid, along with faded blue jeans. It wasn’t like he could afford much else with his meager, inconsistent pay.
Arthur walked up and rolled his eyes, but Merlin knew in his heart that Arthur was endeared. There were two girls to his right, one of them on his arm, and that had to be Sophia. She had curly, brunette hair and an upturned nose, but she wasn’t really Merlin’s type. The girl next to her was very blonde and looked up at Merlin with a mildly interested kind of face, up until she saw his shirt, when the smile slid away. Oh, well. At least she was blonde.
“Hi,” Merlin greeted them with what he hoped was a winning smile. “You must be Sophia. And you are…?”
“Vivian,” the woman answered him, and her voice was very posh and snooty, the way Arthur’s went sometimes when he was talking to someone he considered to be below his station. Merlin sighed inwardly, but it wasn’t like he was expecting anything out of this date anyway. All the better to watch Arthur and figure out what was wrong with him.
“Charmed,” Merlin shook her hand, which she touched as minimally as she could. “And nice to meet you, too, Sophia. Arthur’s told me so much about you.”
“Has he?” She raised a plucked eyebrow at him. Out of someone else’s mouth, it could have been teasing or laughing, but she made the question cold and judgmental. It also was not rhetorical.
“Oh, yeah,” Merlin said untruthfully. “Quite the talker, Arthur is. Can’t get enough of sharing his emotions. It’s a really a hobby for him.”
Neither of the girls laughed, and Merlin felt both unappreciated and apprehensive about how the night was going to play out. Arthur smiled nervously, and it was only then that Merlin noticed how pale he was.
“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Arthur said, voice steady but prodding. “No use standing out here in the cold.”
They were all pretty much silent, only speaking to order their drinks, until Arthur set down his menu and said “Well, I think the roast duck looks excellent. Sophia?”
Sitting across from him, Sophia simply smiled lightly and said “I’ll be having the lamb.”
They were quiet for a moment until Arthur nudged Merlin with his foot and Merlin quickly said “What would you like, Vivian?”
“A better restaurant,” Vivian didn’t look up from her cell phone. “Daddy had a business lunch here and it gave him food poisoning. I don’t trust it.”
“That’s…nice,” Merlin shook his head, not knowing how to react to that. “Uh – where do the two of you work?”
His only response was two eyebrows raised in judgement, one per girl. Arthur cleared his throat purposefully. “They don’t.”
“Right,” Merlin nodded. He had momentarily forgotten that Arthur’s contemporaries worked very differently from the rest of the world; the women were still living with their fathers, waiting to be passed to husbands. It was a little sickening, actually, how the world could have changed so much and yet remained the same as ever. Personally, independence was a quality that Merlin admired in anyone, and this whole situation ate at his nerves.
Merlin ordered the cheapest thing on the menu – a salad – because this place was far too upscale for his budget and he had leftover pizza in his fridge at home, anyway. Vivian, of course, ordered nothing, which was actually a bit of a relief, because then Merlin had no obligation to pay for her.
He wondered why in the hell Vivian had agreed to this night, and figured that maybe their motivations were the same – keep an eye on their friend. He couldn’t work out any other motivation, no matter how distant the girls seemed from both each other and their dates.
Arthur and Sophia did not behave like a couple. They exchanged perfunctory comments, tasted each other’s meals, talked a bit about their fathers’ businesses, wherein Vivian occasionally interjected. It was awkward as hell, but Merlin couldn’t quite pinpoint anything that was wrong with it. It just seemed more like a business dinner than a date.
That was, until Sophia snapped in Vivian’s general direction, “Arthur’s coming back to my place. He’ll be gone by midnight, however, so you can call after that.”
Merlin raised an eyebrow toward Arthur, who hadn’t looked up from his food. The words had sounded too much like a commandment than a predetermined plan, and Arthur had neither affirmed nor refuted them.
“Seems like you two have a plan,” Merlin announced loudly and obnoxiously, looking over at Arthur pointedly. Sophia glared over at him, and Arthur just gave him a look that said ‘stop making a scene’ before responding “I suppose we do.”
“And you’ll be taking me out to lunch tomorrow at Charise,” Sophia said, and it wasn’t a question. “And then call me after your business dinner.”
“Good,” Arthur said without blinking. “I think I’ll step outside for a smoke. Merlin?”
“You don’t –” Merlin started, but then immediately cut off at the look in Arthur’s eyes, the look that clearly stated Merlin’s idiocy. “Yeah, sure.”
He followed Arthur out of the stiflingly posh restaurant and out into the chilly fall night and he could see Arthur relax visibly once they were in the fresh air.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Arthur said critically as Merlin fished a cigarette out of his pocket.
“I’ve cut down,” Merlin pointed out. “I’ll quit entirely one of these days. But after that? I deserve this cigarette, Arthur. It’s been calling to me. I mean, Vivian? What the hell?”
He figured he’d start out with something light and relatable before delving into the actual problem the night was showcasing. If there was one thing he and Arthur could do, it was complaining about other people together, and this would be a good jumping-off point.
Arthur gave him a shit-eating grin. “Pretty, blonde, low IQ – it fits all of your parameters.”
“I’d like to suggest an addendum to those who we classify as my type,” Merlin muttered darkly. “They’ve had to have voted Labour at least once before.”
Arthur snorted and said “Done.”
“Arthur, I know you hate it when I share my opinion,” Merlin began, and he could see Arthur’s eyes go guarded, “but I don’t think Sophia is much better.”
“You just don’t understand our relationship,” Arthur said stiffly, and Merlin winced. He didn’t like going to this place, but he felt like it was his place as Arthur’s best mate to say something.
“Arthur, you talk to each other like business associates, except for when she’s giving you command. She seems cold and calculating, and I just get a really bad vibe off of her. I mean, it’s your life, do what you want, but I like to think I know you a little bit, and I don’t think someone like her would make you happy.”
“Oh?” Arthur turned to him, eyes flashing dangerously, and Merlin cursed inwardly. Arthur had always been the type to be easily angered, and he was far too defensive about his façade of perfection that everyone could see through. “And who would be, Merlin? You? Are you just bitter that I haven’t been added to your list of pretty blondes with low IQs that you’ve shagged?”
“Arthur, that’s not –” Merlin looked over at him, gaping. That was way out of line, and Merlin hadn’t been going in that direction in the slightest. It wasn’t like he had never thought about it, but he took his role of best mate very seriously, and their friendship and Arthur’s happiness meant a hell of lot more to him than some vague dream of a what-if.
“Go home, Merlin,” Arthur said, acid still in his voice, eyes dark. “I can safely say none of us will miss you.”
“Avoiding me doesn’t make me wrong!” Merlin called after his retreating form, anger boiling in the pit of his stomach. This was the absolute worst thing about being friends with Arthur. His temper riled up at the slightest prod and there was nothing to do to stop him from being biting and downright mean. It didn’t matter that it was an overreaction; Arthur would never apologize for it.
It was annoying as fuck.
But that didn’t stop Merlin from being worried about Arthur as he caught the Tube home.
“He is kind of right, you know.”
Merlin raised an eyebrow at Gwaine over the beer bottle he’d been raising to his mouth. “I come here for support and solidarity and what do I get instead? More critique. I should have talked to Lance. He’s so much more understanding about the fact that I’m never wrong.”
“I meant about the wanting to shag him part, not about the Sophia part,” Gwaine informed him, and Merlin snorted defensively.
“I do not want to shag Arthur. And even if I did, that was so not the point of the conversation. I was just trying to be a good friend.”
“You were,” Gwaine nodded in assent, and yet Merlin sensed a ‘but’ coming. “You were just looking out for him and giving him advice. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a jealous bastard, too.”
“I’ve never experienced jealousy,” Merlin put on his mock-serious tone of voice, which always helped divert him from these kinds of conversations. “I’m too just and honorable a person.”
“That guy Arthur dated for a couple months after his breakup with Gwen,” Gwaine said, voice both considering and smug. “What was his name?”
“Mordred,” Merlin muttered under his breath, knowing where Gwaine was going with this.
“You fucking hated that kid!” Gwaine smiled at the memory while Merlin grumbled some more. “He’d never done anything – he was sweet as can be! But you were an asshole to him, and do you know why?”
“That was because he was a smaller, more annoying version of me, I was allowed to hate him,” Merlin pointed out. “And yes, maybe I wasn’t entirely justified in that experience, but I do honestly have a bad feeling about Sophia.”
Gwaine shrugged. “Haven’t met her, can’t say. But – as hard as this is for you – you might want to take a good, long look inside of yourself and realize that you’re way gone for Arthur and nothing you say or do can change that.”
Merlin gave him a look, partly grateful and partly disgusted. “You’re not supposed to dispense wisdom. You’re supposed to collapse drunk on my couch.”
“I am a multi-talented human being,” Gwaine said smugly, reaching for his beer.
Merlin would never admit that Gwaine was right, but maybe Merlin could back off on the Sophia situation just a little. Just in case Gwaine had a point.
Which he didn’t.
But better safe than sorry.
It was getting harder and harder to not say something, though, because Merlin nearly always shared his opinion, especially when it was an unpopular or critical one. He wasn’t afraid of backlash; he told people what he thought when he believed it would benefit them. It was just a part of his personality.
However, he also couldn’t help but notice that Arthur didn’t look healthy. He was pale, twitchy, and looked like he had lost a bit of weight. Still, that could mean work or family problems, not Sophia. Merlin hadn’t seen the woman since the disastrous double date, so he couldn’t really say.
Arthur had decided to steadfastly ignore any repercussions of the comment he had made that night, and though he still talked to Merlin occasionally, they didn’t hang out or joke with one another. It was kept strictly professional.
And Merlin fucking hated it.
“So you’ll deliver the summons?” Arthur said, voice crisp and clear as he looked up at Merlin from his desk, and Merlin wasn’t comforted by the dark circles under his eyes.
“On behalf of the future of my bank account,” Merlin tried for a joking tone, but Arthur barely blinked at him, just set his jaw more firmly. “This is gonna take me into some great gang territory. Permission to carry my .44?”
“Is it legal?” Arthur asked with a long-suffering sigh without looking up from his papers.
“What kind of person do you take me for?” Merlin asked, mock-affronted, and waiting for Arthur to let him know exactly the kind of person Arthur took him for, words sarcastic and dicey and Arthur. But his friend didn’t even blink at him.
No matter how pissed off Arthur was, he would never ignore an opening for jabbing insults like that. Merlin’s stomach felt hollow.
“Mate, you’re not looking great. I don’t say this a lot, but have you been eating enough lately?”
“I’m fine,” Arthur said in that same bored tone of voice that made Merlin long for conversation with Arthur’s irritating rule-stickler of a PA.
“And Sophia?” Merlin decided he’d at least try. Besides, a yelling Arthur was better than this. “How’s that going?”
Merlin noticed how Arthur’s shoulder twitched, and acid boiled in his stomach. He cursed Arthur’s inability to show weakness. “As well as ever.”
“You do know that if it’s not, you can, you know, break up with her,” Merlin started awkwardly and hesitantly. “Or like, talk to me about it. Since I’m your best mate. Who only wants to help you. And has no ulterior motives.”
Arthur finally looked up with tired eyes, running a hand through his hair, and for the first time, addressed Merlin with genuine emotion. “Honestly, Merlin. It’s okay. Stop being a mother hen.”
Merlin barely heard the actual words he said, too preoccupied with interrupting him with “Holy shit, Arthur, is that a bruise?”
Merlin refused to keep up any sort of pretense; his heart stuttered as he forcibly leaned over the desk between them to pull Arthur’s hair away from his face. Arthur let him, going completely still. There was a dark purple bruise on his left temple that looked very fresh, and Merlin could feel Arthur’s hiss of pain when Merlin ran a finger down it.
“Fucking hell,” Merlin swore, “what happened?”
“It’s nothing,” Arthur said, batting Merlin’s hand away from him. It was a genuine, insistent voice that was clearly ‘Merlin, you’re an idiot if you think something wrong is happening’. It was better than bored and dismissive, but not by much. “I just hit my head, that’s all.”
“On what?” Merlin knew Arthur couldn’t lie, and when the other man flushed and stuttered “A door,” Merlin’s suspicions were confirmed.
“Arthur, I know you think of yourself as a very manly man who could never possibly show any kind of weakness, but like – your thick head can register the fact that if someone is giving you bruises, that’s wrong and you should tell someone to try to make it stop?”
“No one’s giving me the bruises, Merlin,” Arthur told him, firmly but gently, but Merlin’s instincts were screaming ‘It’s Sophia!!’ loudly and insistently so he wasn’t exactly taking Arthur’s word for it. But he knew what Arthur’s response to that particular allegation would be, and it wouldn’t be pretty.
“And you’re not inflicting harm upon yourself?” Merlin decided he might as well check to be sure.
“Of course not,” Arthur said, standing up from his desk with a sigh. At least he was responding to Merlin now instead of being a brick wall. “I have to leave, I have dinner plans. Serve the summons as soon as you can, and I’ll see you later. We’ll…I dunno, get a drink or something.”
Merlin could recognize a bone-throw when he saw one, but mainly he was just grateful that Arthur started reaching out again. He would occasionally get into a dreadful mood where he decided people were distractions to him and cut them off, but this had felt different from the start.
“Sure, mate,” Merlin smiled at him, but couldn’t help it from being a little sad. “I’ll see you soon.”
Merlin knew that if he went back to his flat, he would just brood and stew over the Arthur situation. Besides, he hadn’t paid for cable this month. Or for the lights.
So he delivered summons to Cenred Slate, who ran a dirty business on the behalf of a local gang. Generally, being a PI meant taking a lot of pictures from a far distance, but it was always fun when it could get slightly more physical. Merlin busted down his door and pointed a gun at him, which, while not entirely ethical, made him feel a lot better.
It was nice to be in control of something for a change.
It was nearly nine by the time he had gotten out of the area, and figured he might as well take the Tube to Arthur’s instead of his place so that he could let Arthur know that the job was done. He could have called or texted, but there was nothing wrong with a follow-up on their previous conversation. And maybe Arthur would be more likely to confide in Merlin in the comfort of his own home, instead of in his office where he had a certain image to maintain.
Arthur lived in a pretty posh neighborhood, but Merlin knew his way around the area, as well as security systems. He made it to Arthur’s door within the hour, and rapped lightly on the wood.
He waited a few moments, but there was no response from inside. He tried again – nothing. Maybe Arthur wasn’t home – he could still be out, or he could have gone to Sophia’s – there were plenty of places he might have been.
Merlin pulled out his phone to send Arthur a text saying he stopped by but Arthur wasn’t there and that the summons were delivered. He was just about to leave when he heard a sudden crash from inside.
He frowned at the door. There was definitely someone inside, someone who either hadn’t heard the knock or was ignoring it. Arthur wasn’t responding to his text. There was an event going on inside that involved the crashing of something to the ground.
Merlin did not like this. Bad vibes were practically spilling out of the apartment door.
It was most likely robbers or something of the sort – Arthur was pretty rich, this would be a great target. He could be having sex with Sophia, but that thought made Merlin feel a little sick to his stomach. For all Merlin knew, Arthur could have adopted a cat within the past few weeks and not informed Merlin, but that was pretty unlikely.
A tiny, somewhat irrational voice in his head kept saying ‘Arthur’s hurt’, and even though it could be true, the bruise on his face the evidence, it could just as easily not be true.
And then he heard slamming noises – repeating slamming noises, as if someone was hitting a block against the ground. That would be atypical of robbers, sex, and a cat.
Merlin briefly considered breaking the door down– he had done the same to the door at Cenred’s joint – but that had been a shitty wooden door and this one was probably reinforced with steel. Hopelessness hit him before he remembered that there could be a spare key somewhere. He scrambled through the hall, looking under rugs and in plants, and finally found the key taped to the bottom of a potted plant. He hurried shoved it into the lock, not knowing what to expect. If Arthur was inside and unhurt, he’d probably be pissed, but Merlin was pretty irrational when it came to Arthur’s well-being.
And he had a right to be.
Shock coursed throughout Merlin’s body as he saw Sophia, small and slight Sophia, standing over Arthur, holding up his limp body by only his hair. Arthur’s face was bloodied, red streaming from his head down his face to his throat, his body entirely lax. For one horrible second, Merlin thought he was dead, but he could see his eyelids flicker just slightly – drugged, then. He had to be drugged for Sophia to exert that kind of physical control.
Sophia dropped Arthur unceremoniously to the floor as she heard the door open, and she turned toward Merlin with a snarl marring her pretty features. “You.”
Merlin couldn’t even say anything back, hot anger coursing through his veins, and without thinking about it, he reached into his back pocket, and thanked any God that was out there that he’d been on a case that required his gun. It truly was fate.
He only paused for a moment to turn the safety off before pointing it steadily at Sophia. The rational, logical part of him knew that it would be much less messy to use it as a threat so he could get her tied up and incapacitated before calling an ambulance.
But he didn’t fucking care.
He shot without a second thought.
Later, he would say that he was aiming for her shoulder to incapacitate rather than kill.
Much, much later, and only to Arthur, he would admit that he hadn’t been aiming at all, and if the shot had hit her heart and killed her, Merlin wouldn’t have lost a night of sleep over it.
She clearly hadn’t been expecting a gun, or for Merlin to actually shoot it. Merlin took a vindictive moment of watching her eyes widen in bone-crushing fear before she fell backward, a sob wrenched from her gut.
She lay on the ground sobbing – but again, Merlin couldn’t give less of a fuck, letting his gun fall to the ground and skitter away as he dropped to his knees next to Arthur, hands shaking and tears forming in his eyes.
“Please, please,” Merlin muttered both to Arthur and to himself as he felt at Arthur’s wrist for a pulse. There was one – faint, but still very much there, and Merlin shuddered in relief.
He took a closer look at Arthur’s face – God, Sophia must have been slamming his face against the table. Arthur definitely had a broken nose, and probably a severe concussion.
Merlin’s shaking hands went for his phone, and he could barely dial 999. Someone picked up and Merlin sobbed into the phone “My friend’s been hurt, please. His girlfriend was slamming his face into a table. I think he’s been drugged. She was trying to kill him, and I shot her. They both need a medic.”
The ambulance could be there in five minutes, and it wasn’t soon enough for Merlin. Sophia screamed in pain from next to him, but Merlin could barely hear her. He was too busy cradling Arthur’s head in his hands and alternating between prayer and insults.
“Stupid bastard, never listen to me,” Merlin muttered, tears streaking his face. “Thought she was hurting you. Didn’t think she wanted to kill you. Should have pushed harder. You should have told me, idiot. If this was your goddamn manly pride…I fucking hate you, you little shit. Make my life so hard. I’ll probably go to jail for shooting the girl. Don’t really give a fuck. Please, please, sweetheart, you’ve got to be okay. I need you to be okay. Stay with me, sweetheart, please, just stay with me.”
Merlin refused to leave Arthur’s room at the hospital. Whenever one of the doctors or nurses gave him the ‘go home’ look, Merlin intensified his ‘I will never leave this spot just to spite you’ look.
He only left for an hour to go through some really wonderful police questioning, where there were stupid bastards who didn’t believe a tiny girl could beat up her muscled boyfriend like that, but the drugs in Arthur’s system were proof enough, and since Merlin hadn’t actually killed the girl, it was done in defense, and Merlin had a concealed carry permit, they really couldn’t charge him with anything.
Merlin had been right about everything – the drugs, the concussion, the broken bones. Arthur would have bruises on his face for a long time to come. But he was getting somewhere close to lucid, and the second he was capable of cognitive thought, Merlin started talking.
“Why the fuck did that bitch try to kill you? Was she just batshit or was there a reason?”
“Money,” Arthur croaked after a moment. “All she needed was a ring from me and then she could claim inheritance of my assets. I think her father put her up to it, but I don’t have any proof.”
“Jesus Christ, you blueblood families are fucking insane,” Merlin groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Wait – did you give her a ring?”
Arthur shot him a regretful smile, which looked a little scary with all of the bandages on his face, and if Arthur had actually died from this, Merlin would have stolen the death certificate just to write ‘Death by stupidity – and a psychotic rich girl’.
“Why?” Merlin honestly could not comprehend this. “She was hurting you; why would you do that?”
“Not badly,” Arthur tried to justify, and Merlin would have hit him if – well. “And I only had a few bruises before…this. It was mainly just emotional stuff. Control. I’m a people pleaser, you know that. She makes insinuations at marriage…I want to give her that. Besides, no one’s ever wanted to marry me before.”
“I know how you work, Pendragon,” Merlin said darkly, not allowing himself to respond to the rest of the shit, knowing that he would go off. “You can’t add emotional sharing shit to the end of that without an ulterior motive. You’re trying to get me to feel sorry for you so that I don’t yell at you for being a fucking idiot. Which you are. Fucking hell.”
“I feel an ‘I told you so’ coming,” Arthur said, and sounded properly ashamed about it, so Merlin decided to let him off and not actually say it. He just implied it for the next several hours. Days. Months.
“I’m going to fall asleep any second,” Arthur told him not much longer after that. “And you really need a shower. Go home and get some sleep.”
“No,” Merlin said stubbornly. “I’m staying in this goddamn chair until the end of time itself.”
“Making sure no one comes in to threaten my life again?”
“Of course not. The doctors and I are locked in an intense battle of wills, and if I vacate the premises now, it means they win, Arthur. I can’t let them win. I have to stay here until time is gone. Or they release you. Whichever comes first.”
“Whatever you say,” Arthur said, fondness creeping into his voice. “And Merlin?”
Merlin hummed in response.
“Thank you,” Arthur said, very quietly, just in case someone they knew should happen to overhear. “Not just for shooting her but for – you know. All of the super girly concern you showed for me up until then.”
Merlin couldn’t even think up of a good way to mock Arthur back. He just leaned forward to press his hand against Arthur’s. “Anything for you.”